Night of the Shrek
by hungryrobotbaby
Summary: Herry eagerly allows the attention of a heavenly stranger. How will it all end? (In no way do I own any of the Shrek films)


I sat there in the darkness with tears stinging my eyes. I wanted to stay, but nothing made sense here. Not anymore.

My old grey sweatshirt was the only thing keeping me from lying on the rusty park bench. The age of it was starting to show more and more each day- threads were coming loose and the hood was beginning to show heavy signs of wear and tear. It didn't matter to me, though. I didn't have much besides it.

Sure, I had a backpack with some of my things in it, but that was all. In fact, I didn't even know everything in that backpack. When I got kicked to the curb, I didn't really pay attention to what I brought with me.

When I sat up, I felt my bones creak under my weight. I tried to ignore the kink in my neck as I unzipped the zipper of my pack. It wasn't as full as I had expected- I found a pair of pants, a couple shirts, my cell phone, wallet, and a couple other things that I had almost no use for. Figures.

I picked my phone up off the pile of clothes and pressed the unlock button. The screen failed to light up. I tried again. Nothing.

Of course, I thought. My phone's dead and I don't even have a charger.

I sat like that for a while, thinking about my options. After a couple minutes I realized that I hadn't checked the front pocket of my backpack. Hoping for the best, I unzipped it. Sure enough, I found a charger. Along with that, I almost found a lighter and some loose dollar bills. Not much, but it's all I'd need.

I loaded everything back up in my bag and laid back down. Tears still sat in the corners of my eyes, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this needed to happen. I just wish that I had held off until the morning. By the position of the moon, I figured it was around one in the morning. The cool wind started to chill me to the bone, and all I could do was bundle my sweatshirt up just a little bit tighter.

It always seemed like silence was inevitable to me. Especially now. The only sounds that passed my eardrums were those of the night: the subdued howling of the wind, distant sounds of cars driving home from late parties, and my own thoughts.

They came up one by one as I laid there. No matter what I focused on, a tsunami always managed to crash through the barrier. Eventually, my eyes flickered shut, turning out the dim light of the moon.

I woke up with the early morning sunlight shining past the shade of my eyelids. No longer did goosebumps line my skin. The young sunlight offered a fair amount of warmth, taking away one discomfort that haunted me through the night. The cold, however, was replaced with the overwhelming pain of hunger. Thinking about it, I realized that I hadn't really eaten anything substantial since mid-Saturday. It was now Sunday, so I figured it was fair to be hungry.

The fountain in the middle of the park still sat dry, so I knew it still had to be before six in the morning. With that being considered, I hauled my backpack onto my shoulders and set out on the latest adventure.

This is where it began.

As I walked across the iron bridge leading to the city, I took the lack of cars as a comfort. Standing against the railing, I felt sort of... peaceful. As peaceful as possible in my situation, anyway.

I sat on the sidewalk, looking down into the river. It was a long ways down, but somehow it still felt close. Looking the ribbon-like currents, I felt the sudden urge to move on. I found myself pulling my cell phone from my backpack.

Trying to turn it on.

Throwing it over the edge.

Before I could even register what I was doing, I saw that piece of me take the plunge. I saw it sink to the bottom of the river, being carried away by the current. It was gone, and it was never coming back.

Somehow, I couldn't care less. About a week ago, I would have been lost without my cell phone. My beloved cell phone, with all the unimportant photos and text messages. Now, I didn't mind leaving any of it behind. I was ready for it to be gone.

Instead of dwelling on it, I stood up, zipped my backpack back up, and kept walking. I heard taxi horns in the distance, so morning was officially beginning. The sidewalks would soon be packed full of people: the ones on the way to work, the tourists, the wanderers like myself. Before long, we would be one.

By the time I made it into town, the morning's first group of early risers already began navigating through the streets. Some were on bikes, some held coffee.

Coffee. I need coffee.

I hadn't been in this area of the city for quite a while, but there were still coffee places on every corner. There were the corporate places like Starbucks, with their goofy overpriced drinks, and there were "mom-and-pop" places with actual coffee. Those were the types I tended to go for. I could always go for a good old cup of black coffee.

I wandered a couple of blocks, eventually settling for the place I'd been to more than a couple of times. There was no neon sign trying to attractive customers; just a long slab of wood painted with the words "coffee shop". It was my type of place.

When I pushed through the door, I was greeted by the deep scent of freshly ground coffee. A couple tables sat here and there, and a simple menu board displayed a few options. I scanned it for a minute or two before approaching the counter.

The barista stood with his back to me, fiddling with some sort of coffee-brewing contraption. Just as I was about to ring the bell, he spun around and smiled, albeit appearing a bit flustered. It instantly registered in my mind that this was the barista I usually saw here. By this point, I figured he must be one of the only employees.

"Hey, I recognize you. Sorry about the wait. What can I get for you?" He smiled brightly, swiping the hair off his forehead with one brush of his fingers.

"Hey, yeah. No worries. I'll take something strong, please." I laughed despite myself. Having not looked at myself in the mirror lately, bags probably sat under my eyes and my short ginger hair was probably a mess.

He didn't seem to mind, as his smile never seemed to fade. It was genuine, from what I noticed. He laughed. "Sure, sure. Rough night?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, to say the least."

He nodded and wrote something on a piece of paper. From what I could see, it was just a receipt for my coffee. "Well it's a new day, so make today better. This coffee's on me."

I smiled shyly and took the receipt. I couldn't decipher whether or not he was trying to flirt, but it didn't matter. I wasn't looking for anything like that right now. "Thanks." I looked at his name tag. I knew his name, but I looked at it anyway. I wanted to see his name encrypted in sloppy boy handwriting. Ben. "Thanks, Ben. That's cool of you."

He turned around again, holding a medium-sized travel cup. "Don't mention it. The cream and sugar and stuff's over on that table... But I bet you already knew that, huh?" He pointed to a small countertop area across the room.

I tried to smile again, but my energy levels were seriously shot. Instead, I muttered a quick "yeah".

Ben handed me the cup and smiled once more. "Things will be better. I promise."

Somehow, a smile spread across my face as well. "I hope so, Ben. I really do."

As I started to walk toward the door, he shouted in my direction. "How is it that you're always in here, but I still don't know your name?" I could hear the playfulness in his voice.

The bell on the door rang as I leaned back on the door, meeting eyes with him one last time. "Herry."

And then I was back in the city, coffee in hand, and nothing on my mind.

It didn't take me long before I realized that I had no place to go. I wandered aimlessly for what seemed like hours, eventually settling in a narrow alleyway between a movie theater and a pornography store.

The brick wall chilled my back as I leaned against it, but I immediately found that it was a comfortable position. So comfortable, in fact, that my coffee's buzz immediately wore off. I fell asleep with my head tilted against my shoulder, quickly fading into a dimension of dreams.

In this dream, I only had a faint sense of anything, until I felt a large pair of hands wrap around me from behind. I eagerly welcomed the touch, not turning around until I was forced.

As I turned to face the other direction, I was met with the broad green chest of a creature that I could not identify. Strangely enough, the unusual color of his skin only increased my arousal.

"What's your name?" I whispered, slowly lying my palm against the mystery man' s warm flesh. A slight swampy scent wafted from him.

He pulled me closer to him, leaning down so we met eye to eye. "Shrek," he said confidently. His Scottish accent made me quiver within his grasp.

I swallowed hard, looking into his eyes. Suddenly, his lips met mine in a fierce battle for dominance. I quickly submitted to Shrek, allowing his kiss to captivate me.

Shrek pulled his mouth away, moving it against the shell of my ear. "Have you ever been with a man before, Herry?"

I nodded, growing weaker as he moved his hands down to my ginger ass. "Yes, but not with anyone as Shrexy as you."

"I'll show you how a real ogre does it"-

I woke up in a cold sweat, momentarily forgetting that I was, indeed, sleeping in an alley. My head spun as I stood up, and the vision of Shrek was still fresh in my mind. Out of nowhere, I had a raging yearning to feel his viridescent skin against my own.

Soon, I got my bearings and stood at the street corner, deciding where to go. I appeared to have slept for most of the day, and my neck cramped from where it was bent. Luckily, the night was young, so I decided to head back to a bistro that I spotted next to the coffee shop earlier.

It didn't take long to arrive at my destination, and when I approached it, I saw the bistro's outside lights shining like a beacon; I was still very hungry.

As soon as I ordered and received my food, I decided to sit at an empty table outside, parallel to the small fencing surrounding the restaurant. I dug in, enjoying every morsel of my food, eventually closing my eyes to savor each bite. My eyes shot open, however, when I heard a familiar voice amongst the crowds walking by.

"I'm sorry, Fiona, this is all just so ogrewhelming."

I frantically scanned the crowd, eventually allowing my eyes to land on a well-dressed gentleman, despite not seeing his face.

I recognized his voice, and it all became stunningly clear. It was Shrek.

It seemed like from that point on, everything went in slow motion. The crowd suddenly separated, and Shrek's green ears glistened in the fading sun. When our eyes met, I felt a familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach.

He hung up his cellphone, and confidently sauntered over to my table. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" His accent was as hot as ever, and made me melt inside. Immediately, I craved his touch. I knew I had to stay calm if I wanted any chance with this dreamy ogre stranger.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know. Can I help you with something?" I worried that my acting was not good enough, and that my cool facade was all a lie.

Either Shrek was playing along, or he actually believed me. "Well, no. I just got in a fight with my wife, so I guess she won't be coming home tonight."

"Oh, I'm so sorry-"

He held his large ogre hand up. "I wasn't finished with that I was saying. I was going to say that I need to get back at her somehow."

My eyebrow cocked, and I grew to be slightly confused. "I'm not sure I follow... I mean, I don't even know your name." Lie.

The dapper ogre man leaned down, pressing his mouth against my ear and sending shivers down my spine. "I know you know my name, Herry."

I gasped! How does he know my name? I thought.

He must have sensed my sudden arousal. "You're coming home with me." Before I even knew what I was doing, I abandoned my food and quickly followed Shrek to the fancy black car that was parked less than a block away. I tried not to lose him in the crowds that packed the sidewalk, but his familiar swamp smell guided me.

The ride to his apartment was silent and filled with sexual tension, as was the ride up the elevator. As soon as we crossed the threshold into his home, though, his lips captured mine. Suddenly, I felt myself being backed up against a wall, allowing Shrek to pull my sweatshirt off. He held my hands above me, effectively pressing them to the wall with one of his enormous hands. I felt exposed with no shirt, but the ogre's mouth quickly moved from my lips to my neck, and all inhibitions melted away.

Shrek freed my hands, only so I could rapidly help him shed the many layers of the suit he was swearing. His jacket, tie, vest, and shirt all joined the pile of clothes on the ground that had started with my grey shirt. As soon as his chest was bare, I eagerly pressed my palm against Shrek's toned peck, while using my other hand to unzip his pants. I did this without the use of my eyesight, because our tongues battled for dominance once again.

Things following the same pattern as the dream I had earlier, the room getting steamier by the second. Soon, we had made it to Shrek's bedroom, where he laid me down, pulling the remaining clothing from my body. After he shed the final layers of clothing, his massive green eshrektion became clearly visible. By now, I was ready for him.

"I hope you're ready for something Shrektacular," he said as he smirked.

"Please, Shrek." My ginger hair was plastered to my forehead with a thin layer of sweat accumulated from the ogre's roughness.

Just as the green beast was about to lower himself onto my naked body, I heard the front door's lock click. Someone was coming in, and Shrek had a naked ginger in his bedroom.

"Bollocks," I whined. Quickly, Shrek rolled off the bed and collected the clothing that littered the floor. I heard movement outside the bedroom door.

A voice called out. "Dad? Why are your clothes on the ground?" Somehow, the voice sounded familiar.

I looked at Shrek, ready for an explanation, but he avoided my gaze and threw clothes in my direction. I stood up, wondering how I would get out of here without being caught, and my worries were soon validated: the bedroom door swung open. I covered my crotch with a random bunch of clothes, and was met face to face with someone I had seen only hours before: Ben.

The pieces fit together in my head, but it didn't immediately make sense. Ben was Shrek's son? I was attracted to both? What?

Ben turned a bright shade of red. "W-what? Herry? Dad? What the hell?"

Shrek walked toward his son, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Yes, Ben, this man is very attractive. So attractive that we can't let him leave." Shrek and Ben both stared straight at me, and their eyes were frighteningly void. "This is what we planned for, son."

Ben nodded and walked toward the closet and pulled out a random brick from a hidden shelf. Before I knew what was happening, Shrek grabbed ahold of my wrists, limiting all movement. Finally, Ben crossed the room towards us.

Shrek leaned forward, pressing his mouth against my ear. This time, the touch did not send shivers down my spine. "It's all ogre now, Herry."

I had no chance to respond, as Ben forcefully connected the mystery brick with my cheekbone. I fell to the ground in a limp pile, staring up at the seemingly spinning ceiling.

Ben and Shrek stood over me, nodding at each other in approval. The beast put his arm around his son's shoulder and sighed. "This is the one. He is ours now."

The room faded to black.


End file.
